Uncle Vegeta
by darksunshine200
Summary: Being an alien half-breed is tough, even for a girl with super-powered obstinacy such as Son Pan. Going through elementary school with those powers can be even harder. When everyone else is too busy for her, Pan finds unexpected comfort in an unlikely place.


**Hello again! ^-^ Another oneshot! *confetti* Yayy... ;P Anyhoo, this is my first try at anything involving Pan, so hopefully I didn't screw up her character. I dunno. I suppose this is set a little bit before GT. *shrug* And I'm not ashamed to say I LOVED DBGT. Soooo... That could be a conversation starter. ;) Anyway, I REALLLLY hope you like it! Please feel free to review, I would appreciate it immensely! :D**

~!*!~

When Gohan had asked him if he would kindly pick Pan up from her elementary school, Trunks had assumed he would simply drive her home. No fuss. What he got was a little more than he had bargained for.

His first clue had come in the form of the little Son almost hugging the wall, sniffling angrily. The ride home was tensely silent, with Trunks attempting multiple times to get more than two words out of her. Instead she stared out the passenger window at the dark brewing clouds, the former scowl mostly wiped from her face. She looked about as moody as the gathering storm.

After a while, Trunks just stopped trying.

"Oh!" Bulma turned around with a smile when the two walked in. "Pan, I didn't know you were coming over." She frowned at food she was frying in a pan. "I would have made more..."

"Gohan asked if I could pick her up from school," Trunks explained distractedly. "I think he said he and Videl were going to some kind of meeting. They'll pick her up a little later tonight."

"That's fine. By the way, Trunks, the board called for you. I think you better-"

"Got it." Trunks shrugged off his bag as he rushed down the hall, leaving Pan still standing in the doorway like a lost sheep.

Upon his leave, Bulma gave her an apologetic smile. "He's going to be busy for a while. Meanwhile, you can be the first to have a cookie as soon as they come out of the oven."

Pan nodded wordlessly and sat down at the dining room table, holding her school bag to her chest.

"Hey...what's the matter?" Bulma furrowed her brows, glancing between her and the cooking food. "You seem down."

She frowned when Pan shrugged, resting her chin on the bag. Finally, Bulma switched the stove off and came to stand beside her.

"Was it something at school?" she asked.

After a brief pause, Pan nodded.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Another hesitation. Pan let out a small sigh. "There-"

The phone rang.

With a quick apology, Bulma hurried to retrieve it from the kitchen, where a conversation was immediately started. Pan pursed her lips and propped up her head with her hand against the table. "Okay, then," she mumbled.

Those dumb kids at school, she thought. There was barely ever a day when she wasn't picked on. But today had been particularly poor. It wasn't her fault she had powers none of the other kids had. They didn't have to be so mean about it. At first, she had plainly ignored it. What did she care what they thought? After a while, though, she had gotten fed up enough to lash out at one of the bullies-that had merely resulted in a trip to the office. But they just would not relent.

She tried to convince herself she didn't care. Didn't care what they thought or how they acted. Still...she didn't appreciate being ignored by most everyone in the whole school. Even the teachers were wary of her, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. She was tired of being the outcast.

Yet she could never bring herself to complain, to her parents or anyone. But after the rough day she had had, she was finally ready to burst, to make it known to the world she was sick of being ignored. And she would have, if not for that phone. Now she was hunched over at the table with no one to talk to.

Then when she heard footsteps entering the kitchen, she perked slightly. Her eyes fell with her chin in disappointment when she saw who it was.

"Hello," she mumbled.

She didn't look up when she heard him stop, apparently not having noticed her before. Then cupboards opened and closed as he blatantly ignored her. She would say that was adding one more to the list, but he had been like that as long as she'd known him.

But then...where were these hot tears coming from?

She supposed it was from her realization just then that...she had no friends. No one in school, at least. Sure, she had family and friends like Trunks, and her uncle Goten, and Marron was nice to her. But...that seemed to be it. They were all older than her, always busy. She just wished there was someone who was always there, like a best friend. The closest thing she had to one of those was probably Trunks, or her grandpa Goku. But they were different-they were family. She wanted someone else to be there when she was alone, like now, after she had been bullied at school.

The stinging tears welled up in her eyes, and despite her furious blinking, threatened to spill over. As quietly as she could, she sniffled.

To be honest, Vegeta couldn't care less that the girl was there, or why. He was only grabbing himself a glass of water, and then...he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do with the rest of the day.

But as he was walking out, he paused at the sound of muffled crying. Whatever it was, he was not planning on getting involved.

"Vegeta." He turned at the hiss from down the hall. Bulma waved to him. She looked concerned, no doubt for the child, as she held the phone angled away from her mouth.

"Listen," she said in a hushed tone to him once he reached her. "I'm in the middle of something really important right now. Can you...try to help Pan over there?"

He raised an eyebrow with disbelief. "Can I...?"

"She's having some problems with school." Bulma glanced past him at the girl. "I'm asking you to...I don't know...talk to her? I'm in the middle of this."

"I can't-" he began to protest indignantly. What she was asking...that was simply too much. He couldn't just-

"Please, I'm begging you." Bulma shooed him away with a gesture before holding the phone back up to her mouth.

There was a lot he could do, but comforting a child was not one of them. It was not only because he frankly did not want to, he wasn't sure he _could. _He had more important things to do anyway. He didn't know what they were, but still.

He turned to further his protest, but Bulma, already back in a conversation, gave him a pleading/ordering look and mouthed _just this once._

'Just this once?' He was having a hard time believing that. Besides, what was in it for him? Other than the possibility of no hot meals for an extended period of time. He did wish to avoid that...

"...Fine," he spat, turning on his heel and going back the way he had come. He heard her whisper "Thank you!" and crossed his arms. Why was he even doing this? Surely not because she had asked. Maybe it was the idea of no dinner that motivated him. He would never know.

Pan bit her lip, still sniffling. Her forearms were wet from her tears, as well as her cheeks. She didn't like this feeling, the feeling of vague despair and loneliness. It was too tiring. She just wanted...she wanted someone's embrace. She wanted someone else to be there for her, instead of being alone.

Then she started at the low screech of a chair being pulled back, and looked up. She blinked.

Discomfort written all over his face, Vegeta sat at the head of the table, a few seats away from her. Awkward silence filled the air. She kept her still-wet eyes on the table before her as he busied himself with the glass of iced water in his hand. She didn't exactly know how to respond when he was around, and guessed he felt the same. But...but there was another person nearby. He wasn't aunt Bulma, however...

She cleared her throat softly, fingering the wood table absently. "Is...is aunt Bulma making you sit here with me?" She shot him a small, sidelong smile when he 'hmphed', adequately answering her question.

"Thanks..." she went on quietly, looking down again. "I don't wanna be a crybaby or anything...but I kinda want someone to listen..."

He was silent. She took that as an opportunity.

The whole story suddenly flooded out of her mouth-all of the mean kids at school, the numerous incidents that had occurred because of that. A bit more stiffly, even her feelings came out in words. The entire time, he never said a word, but she could tell he was listening despite his unimpressed expression. It felt pretty good to express herself like that, to vent her feelings. Even if he wasn't the most comforting in the world...

By the time she was done, she was a bit out of breath. But she wasn't crying anymore. In fact, she felt a good deal better.

"What should I do?" she finally asked after pausing to catch her breath.

A few moments of silence, judging by which he didn't really seem to know how to reply. Then, "It's your own fault they ignore you."

What...? Her own fault? Because...because she was different? Part alien? She couldn't help that! She had never asked to be that way. She couldn't change that fact. She looked down as her eyes began to burn once more. So she was destined to be alone forever, then?

"If you surrender to them."

Now she lifted her chin slightly. He wasn't looking at her, sort of staring off into the distance. If she surrendered to them? What did he mean by that, exactly? She voiced it.

"Surrender how?" She swiped her nose with the back of her hand, staring at him with shining, curious eyes.

He gave her a look that said, 'do I have to spell it out for you?' "They're merely words. If they're empty, take it upon yourself to prove them wrong."

"...Huh?"

"Show them that they're wrong about you," he rephrased, sounding irritated. "There's no reason for you to take their words to heart."

Her 'o' shaped mouth closed, and she turned away with thought. He made it sound easy. But then...maybe it was. Prove to everyone she wasn't some kind of freak that could lift tables over her head and light her hand with blue fire. The more she thought about it, the more she realized maybe it really could work. Change everyone's opinion of herself.

"But how?" she asked.

At that, he shrugged carelessly. "I don't know how your 'school' works."

"Oh."

She would just have to figure that out on her own. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe by the time she had tried everything she could think of, she would have a friend. Maybe even more than one. A small smile grew on her lips.

He grunted in surprise when she wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks, Uncle Vegeta," she said happily. "That helped a lot."

Meanwhile, leaning against the doorway, Bulma smiled contentedly. She was glad she hadn't missed such a rare moment.

~!*!~


End file.
